Shakespeare's First Folio Part 199
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Petr. Conceiues by me, how likes Hortentio that?
Hor. My Widdow saies, thus she conceiues her tale
Petr. Verie well mended: kisse him for that good Widdow
Kat. He that is giddie thinkes the world turnes round, I praie you tell me what you meant by that
Wid. Your housband being troubled with a shrew, Measures my husbands sorrow by his woe: And now you know my meaning
Kate. A verie meane meaning
Wid. Right, I meane you
Kat. And I am meane indeede, respecting you
Petr. To her Kate
Hor. To her Widdow
Petr. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down
Hor. That's my office Petr. Spoke like an Officer: ha to the lad.
Drinkes to Hortentio.
Bap. How likes Gremio these quicke witted folkes?
Gre. Beleeue me sir, they But together well
Bian. Head, and but an hastie witted bodie, Would say your Head and But were head and horne
Vin. I Mistris Bride, hath that awakened you?
Bian. I, but not frighted me, therefore Ile sleepe againe
Petr. Nay that you shall not since you haue begun: Haue at you for a better iest or too
Bian. Am I your Bird, I meane to s.h.i.+ft my bush, And then pursue me as you draw your Bow.
You are welcome all.
Exit Bianca.
Petr. She hath preuented me, here signior Tranio, This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not, Therefore a health to all that shot and mist
Tri. Oh sir, Lucentio slipt me like his Gray-hound, Which runs himselfe, and catches for his Master
Petr. A good swift simile, but something currish
Tra. 'Tis well sir that you hunted for your selfe: 'Tis thought your Deere does hold you at a baie
Bap. Oh, oh Petruchio, Tranio hits you now
Luc. I thanke thee for that gird good Tranio
Hor. Confesse, confesse, hath he not hit you here?
Petr. A has a little gald me I confesse: And as the Iest did glaunce awaie from me, 'Tis ten to one it maim'd you too out right
Bap. Now in good sadnesse sonne Petruchio, I thinke thou hast the veriest shrew of all
Petr. Well, I say no: and therefore sir a.s.surance, Let's each one send vnto his wife, And he whose wife is most obedient, To come at first when he doth send for her, Shall win the wager which we will propose
Hort. Content, what's the wager?
Luc. Twentie crownes
Petr. Twentie crownes, Ile venture so much of my Hawke or Hound, But twentie times so much vpon my Wife
Luc. A hundred then
Hor. Content
Petr. A match, 'tis done
Hor. Who shall begin?
Luc. That will I.
Goe Biondello, bid your Mistris come to me
Bio. I goe.
Enter.
Bap. Sonne, Ile be your halfe, Bianca comes
Luc. Ile haue no halues: Ile beare it all my selfe.
Enter Biondello.
How now, what newes?
Bio. Sir, my Mistris sends you word That she is busie, and she cannot come
Petr. How? she's busie, and she cannot come: is that an answere?
Gre. I, and a kinde one too: Praie G.o.d sir your wife send you not a worse
Petr. I hope better
Hor. Sirra Biondello, goe and intreate my wife to come to me forthwith.
Exit. Bion.
Pet. Oh ho, intreate her, nay then shee must needes come
Hor. I am affraid sir, doe what you can Enter Biondello.
Yours will not be entreated: Now, where's my wife?
Bion. She saies you haue some goodly Iest in hand, She will not come: she bids you come to her
Shakespeare's First Folio Part 199
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Shakespeare's First Folio Part 199 summary
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